The Christmas Picture

This was taken a couple of days prior to Jenny going in for her surgery, Richard Israel, a well-known professional photographer heard about our story and offered to take a series of portraits, out of kindness and desire to serve our family. Thank you Richard, for being another way that we have been able to observe God's grace in our lives.

Today, We Celebrate!

Today is a day of celebration in our house, it marks two important events for us. The first is that 17 years ago, our only daughter entered the world. She has indeed been an example of God's grace to us, with her joy for life, love of the Savior, and servant's heart. Happy Birthday, Grace!
The second celebration today comes with the last day of combined Radiation and Chemotherapy. Today is the 42nd and last day of the combined treatments. Now, that is a reason for celebration!
Jenny has shown amazing character as she has undergone the daily process and dealt with the side effects of the patchy hair loss and the lack of energy. She has not once complained, and has started to entertain what the next stage of life will look like, with this behind her. She drove herself to the grocery store the other day, so watch out world, here she comes!
It feels that we are "rounding the first turn" in the race. We knew about these 42 days, now we start into a straightaway. The next appointment is Jan, 15th. It will be the MRI to determine the damage that the combined treatment has done on the tumor. We will meet with the Oncologist on the 16th to review the MRI and determine the appropriate dosage of Chemo going forward. The standard treatment is 5 days of Chemo, then 23 days off, repeated over a number of months - all in pill form. We are looking forward to a nice break over the holidays, and spending time together as a family. 
I will see about posting a family Christmas picture for all to see. Thank you all for your prayers, notes, emails, and meals - your support has been overwhelming and has allowed us to observe God's grace everyday in this process through you all. 

3000 Miles to a cure

I have been so fortunate to observe God's grace up close in the Mulligan family and community.  It has been incredible to see the vibrant faith of Jenny, Ray, Charlie, Ethan, Tim, Grace and Joe.  They have shown me every day in every word and decision that they trust God. I have experienced such joy with them in the last 3 months. 

What has really blown me away though is the response of this community.   Thousands of people have reached out to support Jenny and the Mulligan family. I cannot begin to list all the wonderful ways, it's almost too much to take in. Thank you.

Charlie, Tim and I have been working on a project related to Jenny's brain cancer in the last 6 weeks. We have set a goal to raise $1 million dollars for brain cancer research. Our project is called 3000 miles to a cure.   I am planning on riding across the country in June in a very challenging bicycle event called Race Across America. It will be the most difficult physical thing I have ever attempted.  Like many of you, I feeI I must do something. This will be an international platform to bringing awareness and money to brain cancer research. 

Charlie and Tim are working hard on spreading the word as far and wide as possible through social media and any other ways they can think of.  We all hate brain cancer.

We need you, Jenny's loving community, to help us.  Please like our facebook page, ask your friends to like it, go to our website and read about the project, consider donating, follow us on twitter, and most importantly, spread the word. We can only succeed in this huge project if we touch thousands and thousands of people with the incredible story of the Mulligan family. 

Grateful for you all,

Maria Parker (Jenny's sister)

How many days until Christmas?

I think I have reached my quota of Christmas commercials for diamonds, cars, and other expensive things and its only December 4th. It seems to me that these commercials are saying (some more overtly than others) that these material things are supposed to make up for a year of not expressing our love and attention to the ones we love by giving them something expensive and shiny. 

With the new perspective of time that we have gained with Jenny's diagnosis, I have become freshly aware of the need to express my love and appreciation to those around me in the moment, not putting it in a box, wrapping it with a bow, and placing it under the tree, waiting until Christmas to open up the gift of communicating compassion and care.

Those that know me personally, realize that this is not my strength, as a matter of fact, one of my sons lamented the other day "Dad, you never said things to me like you say on the blog..." A good and fair indictment of the gap between what I feel and what I express in words to those I spend time with. So, don't wait for Christmas - tell the ones around you that you appreciate them, that you see God at work in them, and that you appreciate that they spend some of their time thinking about you.

John, in his letter, says: "For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever." (1 John 2:16-17 ESV)

The world would say that diamonds are forever, commercials try to convince us that the right gift will re-invigorate our neglected relationships, and that Christmas presents will change our lives and not end up piling up in our hallway closet and garages within a month.

I am convinced that we should invest in the eternal, the people that God puts in our lives are what is going to last forever. We each have a very short time on this earth and then it is off to eternity  - either worshiping the reason for the Christmas season or lamenting that we viewed it as just a good time to get some end-of-the year bargains and attend some nice parties....

Jenny is doing great, she ordered a pair of pink running shoes this week, is planning on attending a number of Christmas celebrations, is starting to plan hospitality events at our house, and has generally stopped taking naps. The radiation oncologist told her this week - "I wish all my patients were doing as well as you" 

So - can I just express to each of you how much I appreciate your support, how much Jenny is enjoying your cards and letters, and how thankful we are to have been blessed with knowing you on this side of forever. 

Observations

Observations of God's Grace is what I called this blog on October 2nd - about 60 days ago - it seems more like 6 months ago. Tonight, as I was painting one of our spare bedrooms, which was going to be a small exercise room prior to the diagnosis, which became the visitor's bedroom after folding up the Bowflex and Rowing Machine and throwing a spare mattress on the floor, not exactly five star accommodations...  Anyway, as I was covering the dingy builder off-white white with "willow", I was reflecting upon all the ways that I had observed God's Grace, just in the last few days. A couple of friends were visiting with Jenny downstairs in the living room, as I heard them carrying on,  I started a list....

Friends that come over and visit, A house with a spare bedroom, exercise equipment, the ability to exercise, Jenny laughing, family that come and stay with us - even when they have to sleep on the floor, the change of season, cool nights when you have covers on your bed, children that know the God is in control and love them - even when Mom has cancer, friends that drive to doctor's appointments and go to look at wigs as Jenny's hair is falling out, the big harvest moon in the sky, an employer that says "family first" and means it, emails from old friends, phone calls from people that you haven't talked to in years - just to let you know that they are praying for you, a country that has an election without riots in the street or the president getting rid of  parts of congress, the ability to celebrate Christmas as a family, neighbors that stop and talk, Doctors that stop and really listen and ask good questions, medicine - even when it makes your hair fall out, a good nights sleep, non-stop meals that show up at your door, UPS 2nd day delivery, fresh Christmas trees...

Then, in the middle of my thankfulness stream of conscience, I hit the ceiling with a roller full of "willow". OOPS! Don't tell Jenny...

We have so many things that we have been graced with! Jenny is feeling amazingly well for being halfway through the dual Chemo/Radiation treatments, her hair has started to fall out in bunches, so pray for her, as she looks in the mirror every day and sees changes that are not ones that she is excited about. Wig shopping tomorrow and then the decision to cut it off or not... But that will be for another post, last thing on the list of observations of grace - latex paint :)  

Gratefull

I wanted to post, expressing my overflowing heart of thankfulness for all of you.  Thank you for reading the blog first of all. Thank you for your hugs and declarations of support and more importantly prayers on my/our behalf.  Thank you for bringing our family meals for many days.  God has and continues to meet me in the journey.  EVERY DAY I sing out prayers and joyful songs to the Lord for all of you.  I pray that each of you has a joyful Christmas season.

Much love and gratefulness,

Jenny

Guest Post from Charlie- Walking with Mom

On a Sunday two weekends ago, I asked my mother a question that I had not planned on asking for many years.  As we were walking peacefully side by side on a crisp fall day, I asked, “Mom, are you afraid to die?”  I don’t, no didn’t, think much about death.  It’s not that I actively seek to avoid thinking about it.  It’s just not a part of my normal existence.  And so, other than a few practical conversations regarding estate planning and life insurance, I hadn’t thought to ask Mom or Dad how they felt about dying.  That was a question I’d ask one day, sitting at the family house, grown myself, with my own family, mom and dad’s grandchildren, running around.  But with brain cancer, death stares you right in the face.  You must uncover your eyes, look at it right back, and decide what you are going to do about it.  So it was hard, but I asked the question.

However, this is not a sad story.  Somewhere in our circumstances as a family, there is a one-eighty degree turn.  Somewhere, staring down what might be a tragic loss turns into joy, real, peaceful joy.  And that’s what I heard in Mom’s answer. 

We all have a certain amount of time allotted to us.  On the face of it, there seems only one way to approach this – to try and squeeze the maximum amount of satisfaction out of the time we are granted.  Looking it at this way, Mom’s cancer is a roadblock.  It gives her pain, slows her enjoyment, requires sacrifices from each of us affected.  And death, well, death is an ominous reality, a time bomb methodically ticking down to a certain fate. 

But Mom, she found something else to live for.  She began a relationship with the Being who created time and all this around us.  And that’s when the 180 happened. 

What happened was that God showed her that there is more to life than simply one’s own happiness.  Instead, everything in life is woven together as a perfect tapestry, seamlessly perfected for each of our benefit.  What we need most is to be in love with our Creator.  And every moment in history is tailor-made with that in mind.  God is so passionate about my Mother knowing Him that He came and died for her to pay the punishment her sins deserved.  She has a pure, intimate relationship with her Father because of what His Son did on the Cross.  Because of his work, no sin, no failure, no weakness gets in her way of fellowship with God. 

This means that cancer is not a roadblock.  It is an opportunity to see in a new way what God has in the life.  And death is not a time bomb.  It’s a door, swung open, to be truly alive, in the presence of her Creator, with no worries, no pain, and no weakness.

And so, we stopped briefly in our walk after I asked, “Mom, are you afraid to die?”  Looking up at me, without hesitation, Mom answered. “No”, she said. “Not at all.”  We continued walking, not sure what new thing our Father has for us next.

Tonight, before Thanksgiving, I'm grateful that we can have such assurance.  It's only through the work of the Father.  Blessings to you and your family tomorrow!

- Charlie